What is it I say?
As much as I hate to admit it,
I seldom know what I am going to say.
I just pick the words that seem to fit,
Then review it a bit, and it's on it's way.
It's a process of creation unconsciously fed,
By my thoughts, emotions, feelings, and senses,
They vie for attention, swirling about in my head,
And flow or stubble out in present or past tenses.
What you read is mostly uncooked organic words,
Natural and raw in the method of preparation.
Maybe they sometimes appear as a flock of birds,
Flying to and fro anticipating migration.
- Brenneman T. January 22, 2002
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Insight in Sight
Insight in sight,
I fell. I fell
below. Be low
and rise...and rise
again. Again
be free. Be free
of fear. Of fear
I fell. I fell,
and rose. And rose
love is. Love is
a flower. A flower
grows. Grows
to fruit. To fruit
then tasted, then tasted
again. Again
seed falls. Seed falls
to grow. To grow
I fall. I fall
to grow...to grow.
- Brenneman T. January 23, 2002
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Seem Strong, Am Weak
I seem strong,
But am weak.
My humility,
Must grow.
My ego,
Must die.
Then I will live
In lasting peace.
- Brenneman T. January 23, 2002
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Inside a Box
Hidden deep within a box;
The box hidden among others
In my garage; hidden there
For years now among the stuff
I moved and never unpacked,
or unpacked once hurriedly,
In an anxious fit looking for them;
Purposely mislabeled because I wanted
To keep them safe, and lost now
Among the mountains and peaks
Of things I need to do,
now hidden from myself,
are precious jewels to adorn me.
Someday I will find them
Inside a box.
Someday I will find them
Inside me.
- Brenneman T. January 25, 2002
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Alert Intuition
A spirit of deception,
Crawled out of sweet smiling lips,
Into the open mind of the believer,
And stole his trust. He did not know.
While he loved her,
Anxiety plagued his thoughts.
"Why," he asked,
And chided himself as insecure.
But his doubt was not frivolous.
Intuition spoke through his feelings,
Alerting him to an incongruency in her,
That he would soon discover.
- Brenneman T. January 26, 2002
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Caged Raccoons
Raccoons once lived under the flat roof of my apartments.
The roof systems were leaky and old, and I constantly had to fix them.
I sort of thought having the raccoons was cool until tenants complained.
When I caught them in a have-a-heart live trap,
I was stunned at the frenetic bloody effort they exerted trying to get away.
Their power was amazing. They could not, however cunning, escape the cage.
Although law requires them killed if trapped,
I took them out to the country and let them go. It was difficult and dangerous.
Inevitably, instinctually, they would return with time.
Some were more vicious than others,
But all fought to escape, and most all returned.
Finally, I replaced the whole roof system with a better one.
Some of my thoughts are raccoons living in the roof of my mind.
I like wild raccoons, but I must protect my mental roof.
When I trap them, they fight the cage, but cannot escape.
It is painful to see them hurt themselves, but it's even worse to leave them.
I take them out to the country and let them go.
They often return, but are finding fewer access points to my mind.
I've shortened the limb of self pity and am patching the hole of insecurity.
They must gradually find new homes.
I see them occasionally, but they don't threaten me much now.
I'm glad they are wild and can live freely.
I can slow my worrying, trapping, and patching,
Because I'm building a great new peaked roof system I designed myself.
- Brenneman T. January 26, 2002
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Somehow Fonder
I found escape planting flowers,
And picking up sticks.
Instead of wasting my hours,
Analyzing chicks.
I found meaning in meeting passersby,
Who'd say 'hello,'
Instead of spinning a thought so dry,
On another scenario.
A weighty theme or problem,
I did not ponder,
And though I did not solve them,
Of life I'm fonder.
- Brenneman T. January 27, 2002
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Necessity
Taking care of me,
Is a chore I must now see,
As necessity.
- Brenneman T. January 27, 2002
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The Chase to Balance
The chase through modest misfortunes,
And the occasional terrifying event in my life,
Has taught me to run fast when necessary,
Be more tolerant and aware of all things,
And stay especially alert,
To the value and presence of peace.
A deeper pond allows a bigger fish.
It may be natures law,
That we grow more through adversity,
Than through pleasure.
But let me then be of moderate wit,
And more content.
- Brenneman T. January 29, 2002
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Our Daily Practice, Our Art
Our own physical, mental, and spiritual health,
Although current states of our being,
Are best manipulated by us in a daily practice.
All practice is in essence art. Who we are, body, mind, and spirit,
Is in that sense our own artwork. We all begin as novices,
And we all bring unique experience, perspective and talent to bear.
Should I not find my art pleasing, and recognize I am at choice,
I am able to change it within my particular God-given parameters.
It is good to improve, and even better to learn to appreciate my own art.
My practice is not as palatable when perceived as an achievement or goal.
There is no end. It is my lifestyle. All true change comes through practice.
Whether I believe it good or bad, I have in many ways created myself.
With a developed practice advancement is delicate and change slow.
Although it may appear at times imperceptible,
Change will occur and become habit, and with our practice we are transformed.
- Brenneman T. January 30, 2002
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The Little Ways Doors Close
If you knew the little ways doors close,
And your life is redirected,
You might wish for no doors at all.
But then the noise would echo through you,
Shaking your heart.
Some unknowable warm day,
Borne on a slight breeze,
Your door will open again,
And you will think you hear my voice calling,
And cry.
- Brenneman T. January 31, 2002
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